


Futomomo

by baebel



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bondage, Choking, Dom Hannibal Lecter, Dom/sub, Hannibal loses himself, Japanese Rope Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Smut, Sub Will, Sub Will Graham, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baebel/pseuds/baebel
Summary: Hannibal ties Will up for Valentines day, then proceeds to lose himself.





	Futomomo

**Author's Note:**

> again thank u joji-berries!!! ur the best

Will had always thought the concept of Valentine’s day rather dull. While he understood and appreciated what it stood for, he couldn’t see why couples should need an excuse to express their affection for one another. Having said that, this was his first Valentines with Hannibal and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Though they had been an official pair for a while now the doctor still managed to surprise him occasionally, and Will had a feeling the upcoming holiday would be one of those occasions. 

Flowers had appeared on his desk that morning, leaving his students to make assumptions and for him to give his lecture pretending not to notice them. They were pale, simple flowers. Earlier in the relationship Will had specified that anything as romanticized as roses would be wasted on him, and Hannibal had agreed. Instead of the standard red roses he’d received a small bouquet of baby’s breath, accented with draping greenery. 

At home, he placed them in a vase (a simple, stout glass) and set them in the sun on the windowsill above the kitchen sink. They instantly made Will’s kitchen feel easy and homely - lived in. He wondered for a fraction of a second if Hannibal would ever consider moving in with him before dismissing the idea. Though they were alike in some respects, they had wildly different tastes when it came to lifestyle, and that was putting it mildly. Will couldn’t help himself imagining what it would be like, though. To wake up next to his lover every morning. Jesus. He splashed his face with cool water as if it would assist in ridding him of his daydreams. It didn’t. Will’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he tore his eyes away from the flowers to read the text he’d received.

I’ve managed to book us a table for tonight. Shall I pick you up or will you find your own way there? 

As forward and as sure as always. Will responded to Hannibal's text asking him to do the driving. Between them, this also concreted the assumption that Will would be spending the night at Hannibal's. He walked while he typed, slipping into his bedroom to dress himself up for the date. His wardrobe had changed significantly since he’d began to reciprocate Hannibal’s flirting. The older man used birthdays and their six-month anniversary as excuses to drench Will in lavish gifts that were appreciated more for the sentiment than the fabric they were made from. The tight-fitting suit jackets and formal shirts he’d accumulated were strung up in his wardrobe anxiously awaiting the next time they’d be on show to appease their wearer’s boyfriend. 

While Hannibal was picky about eating at the same restaurant too often, he made an exception for his dates with Will. The place they frequented was small but expensive, reservation-only and lit by quiet chandeliers. It served food good enough to keep Hannibal from complaining and was bland enough not to make Will uncomfortable. He expected Hannibal to dress himself for the gods regardless, and because of that Will was obligated to at least look - in his boyfriend’s words, “presentable.” 

He grabbed the first suitable outfit, and began to dress himself. The shirt was a deep blue beneath his suit jacket, the colour barely noticeable unless the lighting was right or you were looking for it. He breathed slow. Will always managed to forget the feel of expensive fabric between dates. It was soft but structured and completely unlike the worn flannels he was accustomed to dressing in. It was nice to be bathed in luxury, though he doubted he could do it consistently. He pulled his pants over his narrow hips, slipping a belt through the loops and fastening it tight before stepping back to admire himself in the mirror. His entire silhouette had changed from the outline of a fisherman to that of a psychiatrists young partner. To put it simply, he looked good. 

After fixing his hair and cleaning his face, he waited impatiently in the sofa meters away from the front door, his eyes trained on the wood in case he might see the knock from the other side before he heard it. When Hannibal arrived, he knocked loud and quick, and didn’t have to wait before the door was opened.

“Let’s go,” Will murmured, saving his gawking at Hannibal's latest suit for when they were in the car and he could look his fill. The doctor smiled carefully, and opened the car door for Will before taking his own seat.

“How did you find the flowers?” Hannibal asked once they had turned the car towards the road. “You’re free to thank me, they were hardly expensive.”

Will shifted in his seat, letting the side of his head press against the window. His gaze drifted over Hannibal as he drove, his movements subtle as he steered down the unassuming road. “My students will make assumptions.” He said.

“Let them assume.” Hannibal replied, glancing in his rearview mirror. “They won’t be assuming incorrectly.”

Will thought for a moment. Hannibal was a possessive man, he’d claimed ownership of Will the moment they’d met and soon after they’d promised an unspoken vow of exclusivity before they’d so much as kissed. He hadn’t expected Hannibal to insist on presenting him flowers publicly though. “You can rest assured none of my students are going to take your place.” He smiled. 

“I don’t doubt that.” Hannibal assured him, placing a calloused surgeons hand onto his lovers thigh.

The rest of the journey they spoke about Will’s current topic at the university; sacrificial killings. He dug right into each case he mentioned, not bothering to step around any of the gory details. Hannibal mentioned that sacrificial killings were a stable of many cultures, something that had been ingrained into some societies thousands of years ago. People had been sacrificing life to the gods as soon as they’d created them. Will nodded along with his point of view, and reminded Hannibal once he’d said his piece that murder was in fact wrong. Hannibal smiled, though didn’t bother to agree.

They soon arrived at the restaurant, and it was just as Will had remembered it, if a little more crowded. Because it was reservation-only, it was a much more pleasant environment then Will had come to associate with Valentine's day. There was no pushing or shoving or standing in line for half an hour. They were welcomed by name as soon as they entered the door and were guided towards their table. They sat, and Will let his gaze wander across the floor and up the leg of the table next to them, following the outline of a woman sipping on wine and from there to the painting behind her, a desaturated depiction of the restaurants early days. 

“You look as if you’ve never been in a restaurant before.” Hannibal said with a smile. “Perhaps I ought to take you out more often.”

Will responded to his grin with one of his own. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you. Besides, I prefer your cooking.” It was true, not not just for the taste. He loved to watch Hannibal cook, to watch him move between five different tasks at once, always knowing exactly what needed to be done and when. He had an admirable control over each of his dishes. He had an admirable control over a lot of things. 

The waiter returned a moment later with the wine in hand, turning it towards Hannibal for approval. Once he’d been given the go-ahead, the waiter began to pour the wine, relaying the menu of the night. “To begin with, you’ll be served an ocean trout salad with a lime and tarragon dressing.” he turned to Will, smiling as he filled his glass. “Then for main, duck breast in a bed of beetroot puree alongside an array of the appropriate root vegetables” He straightened up and nodded towards Hannibal. “Please, enjoy your evening.” He slipped away gracefully allowing Hannibal to mull over the wine choice. 

“What do you think?” Will asked. He didn’t mind either way- wine was wine. While he had developed his pallette for fine meats since meeting Hannibal, he was still not incredibly bothered by wine. He could taste subtle differences here and there, but his wine-tasting talents had yet to flourish as Hannibal had so hoped. He watched intensely as Hannibal rose the glass to his nose and inhaled, tipping his head forward just enough. He sipped the wine and shrugged. “Not to your taste?”

Hannibal shook his head. “No, it’s a nice wine… just not what I would have picked.” He didn’t bother mentioning what he would have picked given the option. Will’s knowledge on the subject was base at best. “However I am quite looking forward to the duck. It has been a while.”

They shared the meal in relative peace. Will was not in a talkative mood so Hannibal filled the empty space with philosophical quotes and overanalyzing Will’s recent fishing trip. He was a smart man, though after a while his advice started to blend together. It was his voice that had Will entranced in the moment. Accented and deep, his words meant little in the sea of intelligence he’d graced Will with. As the night wore on Will became more anxious and less interested in food or conversation. The restaurant was even quieter now, given that a majority of the couples had slipped away to expensive hotels or shared mansions for the night. Will wanted that. He shifted in his seat.

“Patience, Will.” He was told. 

-

As soon as they’d arrived at Hannibal’s, Will had decided he’d waited long enough. He turned to Hannibal the moment he’d locked the front door and pressed their lips together in a sloppy excuse for a kiss. His hands knew where they needed to be, and gravitated towards Hannibal's waist almost automatically. However, they were quickly removed. Hannibal looked down at Will and saw how desperate he was, unsure if he was going to allow the other man to continue. He squeezed Will’s wrists and earned a stifled whimper for his troubles. “Not yet.” He said, letting him go. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be up in a moment.” 

The phrase ‘make yourself comfortable’, to them, meant Will was to dash upstairs and undress, presenting himself and waiting patiently for Hannibal’s return. He did so, sinking to his knees into the middle of their shared bed, completely naked. He had been in this exact position a dozen times before. His back straight, his eyes downcast, his clothes in a neat pile on the bedside table. Each breath was calm and controlled and identical to the last, at least for now. Will was clueless as to what Hannibal would walk into the room with. The last time he was here, Hannibal had entered the room wielding a riding crop and had bruised his ass to hell and back. He was still healing. 

Will’s thoughts were interrupted as Hannibal entered the room. Although he didn’t look up, Will managed to catch a glimpse of what he was holding. In Hannibal’s hands were two bundles of relatively thin, red rope. He swallowed and prepared himself for the long night ahead. On the occasion Will was restrained like this Hannibal made sure to take his time, ensuring that each knot was secure and flat, that his bondage was completely symmetrical. “You may look.” Hannibal granted, and so Will did.

The older man held himself with complete confidence. There was no doubt in his mind that Will would bend over backwards to please him, even if it only resulted in him receiving the slightest pleasure. He placed the first bundle of rope on the bed and began to unravel the second, holding Will’s gaze all the while. “I find it fascinating,” He began, “That red is so readily associated with romance, whilst still holding the title of the colour of rage. Of passionate violence.” 

At this point, Will half expected Hannibal to draw a knife and began scoring his skin. It would compliment the colour of the rope perfectly. He didn’t, though. Instead he flicked two of his fingers upwards in a way that Will understood as ‘lay back’ and so he did. He let his legs fall to his sides and spread his arms, waiting patiently for the rope to tighten around his skin, for the first loop of red to bind him. It was Hannibal's hands he felt first, hands that coaxed his leg up to his chest, encouraging it to bend at the knee. Will felt himself comply. He shivered watching Hannibal work, watching him find the perfect middle of the rope and looping it. He wrapped the length around Will’s ankle multiple times and pulled taught. Will squirmed, his cock already beginning to show interest. He had been moulded to respond in such a way that now even the slightest hint of attention was enough to arouse him.

Hannibal moved slowly, repeating the motion of binding Will’s leg again and again. The fat of Will’s thigh spilled over the rope in a way that resembled bound meat. He could see why Hannibal had chosen the tie that he did. He eventually tied off and looped the rope neatly back in on itself. Will tried to stretch his leg from it’s position, and was satisfied when he failed. He adored giving himself up like this- it meant Hannibal was free to do as he wished with him. Hannibal moved to the next leg and repeated the same process with the remaining bundle. His eyes shifted grazed over Will as he pulled the final knot into its place. 

He was clearly completely taken with Hannibal, staring into his eyes with his cock proudly jutting between his legs. He arched up into nothingness when Hannibal's’ hands left him, and whined in protest when he received the almost non-existent reaction he’d come to expect from Hannibal. You had to go above and beyond to impress the man. “Please.” he began. It was the first word he’d spoken in some time, as so it came out croaked and desperate and high. “Touch me, Dr. Lecter. Hannibal.” His own hands weren’t bound as they often were, though he wasn’t willing to make the assumption that just because he could do something, doesn't mean he should. 

Once again, Hannibal surprised him. He turned his back on Will, opening a draw to pick out a bottle of lube, and gave Will permission to touch himself which (for the record) he virtually never did. Will indulged immediately knowing Hannibal could take the privilege away just as quickly as he’d given it. The moment his fingers made contact with his length, Will shuddered. He’d been hard since they arrived home and to finally indulge was bliss. His legs tried to spread but were of course restricted from doing so, reminding Will who’s control he was under. Hannibal stepped back to the bed and smiled down at him, lathering his fingers with lube. He knelt on the bed between Will’s thighs and watched his lovers face change as he slipped the first finger inside.

The relief Will felt was only momentary, and quickly followed by a rapidly increasing need, softened only by the lone hand working away between his legs. He asked for more with a single plead and received a second finger alongside the first, now slowly beginning to move inside him. Hannibal was always torturously slow with things like these, teasing Will’s mind to give in completely. He could predict what was going to happen next, what always happened next. “Lord.” Will gasped, likely without his own consent. “Hannibal, please. I need more.” Hannibal stayed exactly where he was for the moment, ignoring Will’s begging whilst soaking up every other minute detail in the room. The sheen of sweat along Will’s chest, which rose and fell with each breath, the hug of the taught crimson rope that bound his legs to be bent. He had transformed Will into such a pretty thing. 

Hannibal withdrew both his fingers and wiped them both on a tissue, all while staring down at Will’s shaking form. “Do you feel uneasy, Will?” He asked finally unbuttoning his pants. Will felt himself salivate. “Tied up in front of me? I could leave the room right now if I so pleased, abandoning you and your pleasure.” His smile grew winder as he rid himself of his suit jacket. Compared to Will, Hannibal was completely composed. Not a single hair on his head was misplaced. He began to stroke himself slowly, watching close as Will did the same. 

Unease was probably the least accurate way to describe Will’s emotions in the moment. He was completely in his element, infatuated with the scenario he’d found himself in. His body boiled beneath Hannibal’s fingers as they encouraged his legs to spread further open. He forced himself to finally let go of his cock. He knew that he wouldn’t last long if he continued, and Hannibal wouldn’t like that. He earned a smile for his demonstration of self-control, though could only resiprocate with bared teeth. 

They held their gaze as Hannibal pressed inside him, drinking in each minute change in Will’s expression. It was one of submission, of overwhelming pleasure and underwhelming pain. Will was so accustomed to the sensation and yet it came as a complete shock every time. His neck arched forward, his hands pressing against Hannibal’s chest to encourage him to slow down. It wasn’t up to him though, and his hands were swiftly coupled together and pressed into the mattress above his head. He struggled to assure himself that Hannibal wouldn’t let him go. 

Will felt himself stretch as Hannibal’s cock sunk inside him. A burning relief that he basked in. He felt claimed in the best possible way, as though every inch of his being were no longer under his control. He was exactly as Hannibal wanted him, a perfect presentation that had been shaped for months, years even, to fit the mould. His breath stuck in his throat as Hannibal filled him, and he could only gasp when he began to thrust. Slow and languid as always, they moved together. It felt to Will like he was being worshipped rather than fucked, but he knew that wouldn’t last long. Eventually Hannibal would lose control. 

With each thrust Will was pressed further into the bed, and Hannibal followed him. He was soon towering over the brunette. His gaze was trained towards Will’s lower half, his bound legs spread to accommodate the larger man. Will instead looked at Hannibals face through the few strands of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “Shit.” He murmured as Hannibal picked up the pace, thrusting into him slightly faster than the until now, agonisingly slow pace. His arms struggled beneath Hannibal's grip, trying to get out to hold the other man closer. They were unsuccessful. 

Now that Hannibal finally had a steady rhythm going, Will could feel the heat in his belly coiling further. He’d been hard for so long and was rapidly approaching his limit. Hannibal on the other hand was still in relative control of himself. He could (if he so wanted to) go on like this for hours, slipping his cock in and out of Will’s willing body. But he was just as impatient as Will was tonight, a rarity between them. He could no longer deny himself the pleasure he craved, and without his consent his own collected facade began to slip. His grip on Will’s hands tightened, and he leant down to leave his mark on Will’s neck. His breath was hot and greedy and filled with lust. He mouthed at Will’s skin, unable to grip it between his teeth like he typically would. The rope had affected him more than he’d predicted and he was already too far gone to care. 

Will hissed in response to both the kisses on his neck and the fingernails digging into his wrists. His eyes rolled back into his head with the unexpected pleasures and soon it was nearly too much. “May I cum, Hannibal? Please?” It all stopped in the blink of an eye. Hannibal had ceased his thrusting completely and let go of Will’s hands. For a moment Will thought that Hannibal might have come back to his senses, but when his vision focused on his expression it became clear that that was far from the case.   
“No.” Was his response, and he took it without question. Hannibal sat back on the bed, watching Will closely. They breathed together for a moment before Hannibal was on him again, this time turning him over and pressing Will’s face into the mattress below. 

Because of the way his legs were tied, Will struggled to stay up in the position. He had to use every ounce of energy he had let to balance himself in a position where he’d still be fuckable. He breathed hard and turned back to look at Hannibal, parting his lips to ask him what he was doing but being cut short when Hannibal abruptly shoved his cock inside him. He whined and shivered while he was fucked, this time without a pause to tease or reassure. 

“Hannibal, seriously I’m gonna cum- if you don’t stop-” Hannibal pressed Will’s face further forward, muffling his moans until they were incomprehensible. He continued to fuck him without regard for Will’s warning, burying his cock inside the boy over and over again while he could only shake with pleasure. Will fell forward onto the bed and Hannibal went with him, pressing his chest to his back while he continued to lose himself. His demeanor had completely changed from what it had been. Hannibal no longer had the patience he initially did, he could only focus on the base, primal instinct to pump Will full of his seed. His pace quickened as he chased his orgasm. 

Will on the other hand, was very nearly there. Completely unable to vocalise his need, he simply gave in. He felt his body tighten and a fresh wave of heat wash over him as he neared his limit. He was close, so fucking close. His wet hard cock stuck out beneath him, begging for the attention that would bring him over the edge. It was then that Hannibal pulled his hair back, finally allowing him to breathe openly, however he wasn't given the chance as Hannibal's hand quickly gravitated towards his neck, squeezing hard. There was no helping it beyond that point. Will came with a choked gurgle, shaking as his vision went blank. Hannibal held him as still as possible while continuing to fuck him through his orgasm. After a moment of pure bliss Will completely relaxed into the mattress, breathing hard. 

Hannibal quickly followed suit, cumming deep inside his lover. Will hissed in response, twisting under Hannibal's weight. “That’s my boy,” He breathed once the orgasm had finally subsided. He lay atop Will for a moment, allowing them both to regain regular breathing patterns. “That’s my boy.” he repeated, and Will could only smile in response. “Happy valentines day.”


End file.
